“Th’ boy got away again. Yes, by jimminetties! He did! Clumb out of a winder, on a rope, too. Slid down it as slick as ever I see. But, poor feller, he didn’t git clear.”
“Why not?”
“Because there was a couple of them tramp fellers waitin’ for him. They grabbed him as soon as he landed on th’ ground, an’ took him inside. Lands sakes, but I felt sorry for th’ plucky chap.”
“What next?” cried Larry.
“Then I come away,” replied Mr. Meldron. “I wanted t’ notify th’ police as soon as I could, so I hitched up an’ here I be.”
“And it’s a good thing you acted as you did!” cried Larry. “I think you have helped solve a big mystery.”
“How’s that?”
“Why, I believe the boy you speak of is the little lad stolen from Madame Androletti!” cried the young reporter. “I think I am on the trail at last!”
“Get out! You don’t mean it!” cried the farmer. “Then you come right back with me, an’ we’ll raid them tramps, an’ git th’ boy.”
“Right!” cried Larry.